She calmly asked the old doctor, "I have my eye on this ginseng. Name your price."
The old doctor stroked his beard and looked between the two parties. "Mrs. Meng, this ginseng is for this..."
"But it hasn't been sold yet, has it? I know business is on a first-come, first-served basis, but I truly need this ginseng for a prescription. Please, I must ask you to part with it."
The old doctor tried again, "That's not..."
"You have a healer's compassionate heart; surely you couldn't bear to see me tormented by illness. Please, sell me the ginseng you're holding. A fifty-year-old ginseng is worth at least fifty taels. How about this? I'll give you seventy taels. What do you say?"
"Well..."
Chen Wanqing stepped out from beside Zhao Jing and suddenly spoke. "I'll offer one hundred taels."
The three words, "one hundred taels," silenced the entire pharmacy.
Patients and doctors alike all stopped what they were doing to stare intently at them.
